


Okay

by AiShi



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Break Up, Drama, Emotional Hurt, Feelings Realization, Hurt No Comfort, Introspection, M/M, POV Eren Yeager, POV First Person, Valentine's Day submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22581994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AiShi/pseuds/AiShi
Summary: Ask him what's the stupidest thing he ever said, and Eren will give you one word for an answer.
Relationships: Levi/Eren Yeager
Comments: 11
Kudos: 53





	Okay

**Author's Note:**

> I've mostly been using Levi as my main character in most of my stories, so I decided to use my boi Eren this time.
> 
> I had a feeling this day (or week) would have lots of fluffy fics for the occasion, so I went ahead and be an ass instead. :D

We've known each other for three years, and have been great friends since. Three years I've hidden the fact that I've long since had fallen for you. And when the liquor helped me grow the balls to finally confess to you on that fateful night, it took me another three minutes to digest your own confession of feeling the same way for me, too. Actually, make that three days. 

Can you blame me, though? It was like a dream come true. A scene that only seemed fitting for scripted movies and fabricated schmaltz meant to cater to people's fantasies.

But it wasn't a dream. It was reality. A reality that was far too blissful to be true.

But as reality goes, it couldn't last forever. It couldn't last that long.

Being together for an additional five years, it would be a blatant lie to say our relationship had been smooth-sailing. In fact, our ship had been terribly worn down after countless storms.

When did it start?

The arguments. The fights. The yelling.

They weren't even that bad before. Yet little did we know, the more it happened, the more it tore us apart.

How many fights have we had? Did it outweigh all the good times we had?

Back then, I would've thought so.

Right now, I could definitely say they didn't.

But this is me living in the now. This is me living in the consequence. This is me living in regret.

This is me remembering, for the hundredth time, the last argument we had. The gust of wind that toppled over our battered ship.

The yelling. It's always highlighted by the yelling.

At that point, we argued for the sake of arguing. Recurring problems with recurring lines. Our words carried daggers of their own. Because it's always been the same issues, the same stands, the same headaches. We already know what the other has to say.

It's really just a matter of who will admit defeat first.

Like hell either of us would do that, though. A couple of headstrong guys who were too stubborn for their own good.

It's funny how other people would say fights and arguments are just tests that would ironically strengthen the relationship. Well, it strengthened our stubbornness. That, I could tell.

At that point, we started to seriously consider if it was even worth it.

"You know what? I'm getting really sick of this shit we, somehow, keep finding ourselves in. I'm so tired of fighting, Eren." You sighed heavily, wearily. The tears that weren't present in your eyes could be found in your voice.

But back then, I could care less about that.

Then, you proposed it.

You said the line I've foolishly used in our past arguments.

"Maybe we should break-up."

And the me who was feeling just as exhausted, mindlessly, _foolishly_ answered, "Okay."

I remember seeing the shock in your eyes when you heard that. Perhaps you thought I'd follow the pattern and put up a fight, until we go through the cycle all over again. Perhaps you thought all the things we went through couldn't just conclude like that.

"What did you say?" You asked with every drop of disbelief.

But exhaustion had long since drowned the voice of my heart.

"Okay." I repeated, loud and clear. "You want to break-up? Then, okay. You're not the only one who's fucking tired of this, you know?"

That was my temper speaking. My rationality silenced and beaten to submission by exhaustion.

_Tired. So tired. So fucking sick of fighting._

You looked like you wanted to speak again. You looked like you wanted to hurl a punch at me. And now, in hindsight, I could only wish you should've done that. You might have knocked some sense to the idiotic me. In hindsight, you yelling at me would have been better than what you actually did.

You turned your back without another word, and just walked away.

Then I was left with silence.

Isn't that what I wanted?

No more yelling. No more fighting. But the bane of this granted wish... No more you.

For months, I acquired silence. However, in those same months, I gradually learned that silence doesn't equate to peace. I gradually felt the impact of your absence. I gradually realized that the solution for exhaustion is a temporary break... Not a permanent ending.

 _Okay_. It's such an ironic word.

Saying "okay" when you felt like jack-shit. Saying "everything is okay" when nothing is.

More often than not, saying okay is a lie. A sugar-coating for the ugly truth. An excuse to obviate saying more. A lie that is so common, it's become immune to guilt.

I am **_not_** okay. That is the cold, hard truth.

  
I started reaching out for you again. Despite being blocked in your phone and in your other social accounts, I had that futile hope you hadn't blocked me in your heart.

_Please, not yet. Please, let me make it up to you._

You no longer reside in that washed down, one bedroom apartment we've made love to in every inch possible. Hell, your shadow no longer wanders in this city.

For months, I wasn't aware of that.

And by shamelessly pleading to our common friends for weeks, I was finally pointed to the direction of where you now are.

A thousand miles. That's how far you needed to be away from me.

And to think we couldn't go being at least ten meters away from each other before. The comparison is almost laughable. And not in a fun way.

It took me another month, but I finally found you again. Sitting so calmly under the shade of a tree on a Sunday afternoon, with your back to the trunk and a book in your hands. You were disconnected with the world around you, lost in the universe within the pages.

You still wore your jet black hair the same as always; undercut, with the bangs neatly trimmed and stopping just above your eyes. Eyes that were stormy gray, holding all the emotions your face either fails or refuses to flaunt. Your well-defined jawline. Your lips...

God! You're fucking beautiful. I know you don't like that adjective being used on you, but describing you any other way than gorgeous would be a crime.

Those firm shoulders, strong biceps that packed more strength than they looked, that toned torso hiding underneath the fabric of your black shirt.

Those endless nights I spent mapping out each dip and curve of you with heated fingers and gentle kisses are never enough. Regardless if we've done it a thousand times or a million times over, I'm still craving for more.

Craving for the times our bodies rocked to the beat of our hearts and the rhythm of our spirits. Craving for the days we looked at each other with eyes filled with nothing but affection in its purest form. Craving for the nights we spent under the stars talking with the language of our souls.

Craving for you, Levi.

This realization that dawned only after I lost it... Is this a telltale indication of something I'll never get back?

_No. It can't be._

As much as I'd like to take my time visually re-orientating myself to the image of you, I know I couldn't settle for just that. So, using all the courage I spent months scavenging, I took sure, steady steps towards you. Steps that were in direct contrast to the maelstrom inside me.

You didn't even notice when I stopped just beside you, too enraptured by the world in your hands. Only when I sat down cross-legged on the grassy ground did your gunmetal orbs met my ocean green ones, wide with shock and disbelief.

"Hey." I greeted, voice smaller than I intended it to be when you kept staring at me like a ghost in your past that's coming back to haunt you.

Perhaps that's what I am to you.

"How'd you find me?" was your curt response, voice smooth and deep and steady as your features that you were trying to match it with. But I already know how much you've mastered this facade.

"I was actually lucky to spot you while I was walking by." I attempted.

"That's not what I'm asking."

"Fine. I asked Hanji."

"Asked?" Your thin brow arched with skepticism.

"Well, begged." I amended honestly.

We both know that between the both of us, Hanji's loyalty might lean more to you. Even so, she was still a very good friend of mine too, and was the reason why I'm having this starting conversation with you again. Nevermind the fact it took me weeks of pleading to finally convince – or annoy – her enough to answer.

"Why're you here?" You asked next, and I tried my damnedest to ignore the ice in your tone when you said those words. "And don't bother fibbing." You added.

Seems like you still know me too well.

"Okay." I nodded absently.

 _Okay_. One word. Two syllables. Four letters.

What's three? Three is the number of times I repeated it. Three is the number of times I regretted it. Three is the number of holes that have found residence in my bedroom wall. Three is the number of ways my heart broke. Three is the number of words that kept resonating in my mind and in my heart.

"I miss you."

And five. Five is the number of words that would follow that.

"Can we start over again?"

Silence was your answer, and not even your eyes were generous enough to spare me a hint. So with desperation comes the begging. Strings of heartfelt apologies and sincere promises left my lips. 

Yet no matter how much my words abuse your ears, it seemed like they could no longer reach your heart. I may have closed the distance between our physical bodies, but your heart and soul was way farther than I had hoped. Way beyond my reach. Way beyond my sight.

"Eren." You started, and it almost seemed like merely saying my name took a lot of effort to just say it rather than spit it. "I appreciate you coming all the way here to apologize. Believe me, I really do."

Funny how people tend to say all the nice things as a preamble, thinking they'd be easing the other for the bomb that's going to be dropped. But when it explodes, it explodes. Getting their hopes up would only then seem more cruel.

"But maybe we should just stay as we are. Where things are actually starting to be okay."

When it hurts, it hurts.

We went around in circles with me trying to find a way to change your mind. But every path I take only leads me to a dead end. You already made up your mind before I even asked. Before I even showed up.

So exhausting all my ideas and valor out – hope included – the only option I had left was resignation and acceptance.

Accept that I've had my chances and wasted them. Accept that you no longer want me to play that part in your life. Accept that this way, things are "okay".

They aren't. Not for me, at least. But okay.

What else can I do when you won't meet me halfway anymore?

"Okay." I agreed numbly in the end.

 _Okay_. How fucking ironic.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy heart's day y'all! Even for those who loathe it ❤


End file.
